The Hardest of Hearts
by suddenlyseekingsansa
Summary: "I can have everything I want," he said, "and I wanted you, just once.  But you kept coming back."  Hermione must live with the greatest mistake she's ever made.  HG/LM.
1. 27 September 2001

A/N: So this is definitely the unofficial sequel to Smoke. You don't have to read it to understand this, though. My friends kept pestering me to continue so finally I gave up and this is what happened. This is probably the most cliched of all plotlines ever to exist, but whatevs, I like it. :)

I already have the second chapter written, but I will post it later. I have a ten hour drive tomorrow! :(

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. And the title is a Florence & the Machine song, so I don't own that either.

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><p>My name is Hermione Granger, I am twenty-two years old, and one hour and eight minutes ago, I found out that my life would officially be over in thirty-five weeks and one day.<p>

I rather wish it was cancer. It sounds terrible, but I never asked for this. I guess no one my age really asks for this, considering the look on my doctor's face when he informed me. Only a handful of times has someone ever looked at me like that, with all that pity and concern and generally _looking down upon me_.

"Miss Granger, erm..." he sighed, looking back down at his test results, "Miss Granger, it seems that you have fallen pregnant. About five weeks, I think."

No no no no. This isn't supposed to happen. This was never supposed to happen.

"If you would like me to test again, I can, but this is extremely accurate, and I highly doubt you'll get-"

I quickly hopped off the examination table, heading straight for the door. "No, it's fine. Thank you, Doctor," I spit out, trying to keep those inevitable sobs at bay.

It took me a while to realize where I had been walking towards. Just a haze of nameless faces and the general bustling and buzz of muggle London. I probably looked absolutely ridiculous, not attempting to keep my sobs or my hair that was slipping out of its ponytail at bay. Finally, I found that I was only two blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron and directed my aching feet in that direction.

When I walked in, the bell hanging above the door tinkled all too brightly. Tom the barman looked up, and called out, "Alrigh' there, Miss Hermione?"

I suppose he intended to ask that to be friendly, but his face fell once he saw my expression. I mumbled something about a hard day's work a little too dejectedly, and pushed open the door that led to the brick wall entrance of Diagon Alley. The tapping pattern on the bricks was nearly forgotten, since I usually apparated directly in my flat, but now, circumstances are different. I can't just fling my body from one place to another with this other...creature inside of me.

I can't get attached to it. Not yet, at least. I don't know how _he _will react.

After the second try (look, it's been quite a few years), the bricks parted and the busy main street of Diagon Alley appeared. The shopkeepers who kept stands outside nodded and smiled, and I tried my best to return them. Old Mr. Fortescue, sweet as anyone could be, nearly fell off his ladder excitedly waving at me while cleaning his windows. Mrs. Blotts glared at me through the front window of her shop (I swear she knew that I fucked _him _in the very back row of the Charms section). Everyone was staring at me. I was used to this, being a war hero, but this time it felt different. Like they knew.

They knew I was slutty enough to open my legs for a _former fucking Death Eater_ and oh, God, they know, they know, they know!

I felt myself get dizzy and everything went so blurry. The cobblestones beneath my feet were getting more and more difficult to keep my balance on, and then I saw a face that I honestly hoped would be the last person to see here.

"Hey, Hermione! Hermione! Are you all right?" My best friend's face popped out of the crowd, his red hair (now long) framing his face. When he saw me completely lose my balance, he rushed towards my side. I fainted before I could feel him catch me.

Which he didn't, by the way. I have the gash on my elbow to prove it.

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><p>When I came to, not one, but three ginger-framed faces surrounded my own.<p>

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Ginny's voice cut through the air, and I was very thankful that Ron was clever enough to inform her of my fainting spell. Ron's hand held my own, and I quickly snapped it back when his fingers began to _subtly _graze my thigh.

"We didn't think it would work," George said, looking a little relieved. "I gave you the antidote half of a Fainting Fancy, but since you actually fainted on your own, we didn't know what would happen!"

I could see the gears spinning in his head. He was an intelligent man, probably thinking about sending a batch to St. Mungo's for testing. I couldn't help but glance at the hole in the side of his head where his ear should be, and then think of Fred. I couldn't stand to be around George anymore because I was always reminded of his brother. I'm sure I wasn't the only one who thought that, either.

"How long was I gone for?" I asked, my voice a little weak.

Ron smiled. "Just about ten minutes. I brought you up here and then I called for Ginny, and she brought George."

Ginny worked at George's shop during her Quidditch team's off-season. I loved having her so close to home all the time lately, since Ginny had become quite good company in recent years. She was the exact opposite as Ron, and I could complain about him freely to her without getting the repercussions of doing so to Molly Weasley. She's a handful, that woman.

"I brought some dittany, to heal up your elbow since my stupid brother wasn't quick enough to catch you," Ginny said with a wicked smile on her face, before Ron reached back and lightly punched her side. She nearly doubled over, and slapped him upside the head in return. "Merlin, Ginny, I didn't even hit you that hard!"

"Hey, watch it, you two," George warned, putting on his best older-brother face. Gone was the outgoing, constantly joking George Weasley. He was much more subdued now, his jokes less frequent.

"Okay, boys, out," Ginny commanded, taking the seat that was previously occupied by Ron. She pressed a wet rag to my forehead and waited until the both of her brothers had exited from the sitting room. "Hermione Granger, you had best tell me what's going on or you are a hexed woman."

Everyone takes Ginny seriously when she threatens them. That reputation had stuck with her well past her Hogwarts days and had even strengthened, mostly due to the long line of men she had disposed of recently, including Harry.

I closed my eyes, because I could feel the tears stinging as they welled up and I was _not _going to cry over this. Her hand went from the rag upon my forehead to my mess of hair, and began to run her fingers through it.

"Hermione, I really would like to know what's wrong," Ginny said softly.

I breathed in shakily, tears _still _welling up, "Please, Ginny, you cannot tell a soul."

She nodded slowly, realization rising slowly in her eyes.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with this, but I went to the doctor's today and he informed me that I'm pregnant," I attempted to say it as slowly as possible, to make it sound like I wasn't as bothered by it was I actually was.

Ginny went slack-jawed. Her hand suddenly stopped in my hair, and she retracted it back to her lap. "Are you being serious right now?"

I look at her, surprised, "Of course, Ginny! Why would I have fainted in the middle of Diagon Alley?"

I sat up then, letting the wet rag fall to the floor.

"So, am I to be Aunt Ginny, or is there something else I should know?"

Always the perceptive one, that Ginny.

"Ron and I haven't been together for over a year now, Gin, you know that. We just live together to keep up this façade for your mother. We just couldn't break the news to her; she wants us to be together so badly. But now this'll just ruin the relationships I have with Ron and your mother." It felt so good to break this news to her. I could feel the weight lifting from my shoulders, but the heaviest weight still remained.

Ginny took a while to take it in. "I still get to be Aunt Ginny though, right?"

Her warm smile brightened her freckled face, and she leaned over to grasp my hand. "Are you going to tell the father, then?"

I truly loved Ginny, she hadn't even questioned me about the paternity like the other women I knew at work would. But still, I was constantly terrified of how I would tell him. We had broken it off a while ago (apparently it's been five weeks), and we hadn't kept in contact because it's not like we were dating. It was an agreement; when he wanted me he could have me, and vice versa. There was no reason for us to converse anymore, until now.

"Yes, although I don't know how well he'll take it," I said, hesitance bubbling up in my throat, "He's married, as well."

"You know I don't like you sleeping around, Hermione," Ginny admitted, "Now look what's happened!"

"I know!" I said, getting too defensive, "We saw each other a lot. I think he began to care for me," okay, I didn't actually think that, but at least it made Ginny feel better, "but he's a nice man," _no, he isn't_, "and I hope it goes well."

No, I didn't. I wanted him to tell me that he wouldn't support me, he wouldn't accept his own child, so I could just do what I really wanted to do. Being a single mother (or a mother at all, really) wasn't in my plan.

Ginny stood up and began to collect her things. "You need to go tell him now. I don't want to question you any further, I hate meddling in these things, you know. The longer you wait the worse his reaction will be."

She just stared at me. I gave her a quizzical look, before she said, "Well, what are you waiting for? I'm not leaving until you do!"

Ginny Weasley frustrates me so much sometimes. "Ugh, fine," I said, slipping my shoes and my jumper back on. I sighed, and smiled, "Thank you, Ginny."

"I'm not your best friend for nothing, you stupid girl," she chuckled, and waved good-bye before I apparated away.

I arrived at the front door of Malfoy Manor, and promptly turned on my feet to vomit into a shrub beside the steps. I needed to remember to not apparate anymore, because this was not helping my situation in the least. I had never felt so sick before in my life, and when it finally decided to dissipate, I heard the door slowly creak open.

"Granger?" A familiar, male voice reverberated through my spine. "What on earth are you doing here?"

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><p>AN: As stated before, I have the second chapter written and from there on I have no idea what's going to happen. I'm always hesitant starting chaptered fics because I never finish them. So if I haven't updated in a few weeks, sadly you'll know why. I'm trying to stray away from the usual "Hermione gets pregnant and when the baby is born it instantly makes them fall in love" kind of thing. Because that makes me vomit a little bit. So, this should be more realistic than that.

Please, please review because they warm my heart (and I do a little happy dance in my desk chair).

Thanks for reading!

Bailey


	2. 27 September 2001, Part 2

A/N: A very, very big thanks to Sic Vita Est, Garling, and Amylion for reviewing! I love you guys!

Here is chapter two. I hope you like it!

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><p>That wasn't exactly the voice I had been expecting. I turned quickly on my feet, wiping my mouth off with the back of my hand. "Draco," I said, in a sickeningly sweet voice, "how lovely it is to see you!"<p>

Maybe it was more like sarcasm, but he seemed to have accepted my greeting. "Were you just vomiting in my mother's garden?" He questioned, his hand extended to the vomit-topped shrubs.

"Erm, yeah, sorry about that. I had a bad lunch, and I guess I had an equally bad trip over here," I lied, through my teeth, but it worked because Draco opened the door wider for me.

"Are you here on Ministry business?" He asked, allowing me to walk past him and into the foyer.

Thank you, Draco, for putting these ideas in my head. "Yes, actually, but I need to speak with your father. Is he home?"

Draco squinted his eyes at me, like he suspected something strange. "Well...he's in his study. He's not really busy, I don't think."

I smiled and glanced around at the portraits of several blonde-haired wizards, all turning their noses at me. I had never spoken to Lucius about my lack of 'blood purity,' but it didn't seem to btoerh him when he was shagging me senseless in various filing rooms and bathrooms at the Ministry. I hardly believed that it _wouldn't _have troubled him. I thought he had truly loved his wife, but I guess things were getting hard for them after the war had ended.

Never had I questioned him about Narcissa, whose bed we had slept in together countless of times. Over night. Where was she?

My ruminations were interrupted by Draco letting out an impatient cough. "Oh, sorry, I"ll just go," I said as I led myself up the main staircase.

"Granger," he called out again, "I never said where his study was."

Well, fuck. I really am awful at getting caught for these things, and I'm sure he became even more suspicious when my eyes widened in fear. "Um, well, this isn't the only time I've been called up here to speak with him." It was actually the third time I had been called to his study, the other two were to bend over his desk and let him have his way with me.

Draco studied my face. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he stepped slowly towards the bottom of the staircase. "Granger, if I find out that anything funny is going on, you will have hell to pay."

I laughed nervously, and brought my hand up to tuck my hair behind my ear. Then, I ran up the stairs as fast as possible without tripping myself. His study was the third door to the right, and I found that light was pouring from the doorway. I paused before I reached the entrance, and when I gazed around the corner, he was intently writing away at his desk. He was bent over so far that the ends of his hair brushed against the parchment he was writing on.

I softly knocked on the doorframe, and he glanced up for a few seconds before returning them to his desk. "Hermione," he said, and I felt myself stiffen when he used my given name, "I thought you had broken this off."

Of course all he can think about when he sees me is sex. "I'm not here to spread my legs for you, Lucius," I say, a little too spitefully. He can shove it.

He sighed, and leaned back in his chair. His arms folded across his chest. "How disappointing," he smirked, "I became so _thrilled _to see you."

I shut the door behind me and directed a silencing spell towards it. Draco didn't need to knokw about this just yet. "I came here to speak with you, actually. Preferably in a civil manner," I said, sitting myself down in the chair opposite him.

His smirk quickly dissipated, and he nodded. "Alright, continue, and be sure not to waste my time."

I exhaled slowly, my anxiousness clearly apparent to him. The silence, except for the crackling of the fire and the ticking of the clock, was overwhelming. "I had been feeling off lately," and I had missed my period, but I figured that he didn't want to know about that, "so I went to the doctor's today," my voice began trembling, "and he...well, he told me that I'm pregnant."

Somehow, I was more scared after I had told him than I was before. His face grew pale, and his eyes dropped from the intense gaze he had upon mine. He grabbed his quill again, and said, "And?" He returned to writing on the parchment.

I was infuriated. He _knew _he was the only person I slept with in the past few months, we had discussed it! "It's yours, you idiot! Why else would I be here?" I scoffed at him.

He looked at me for a moment, he knew I was angry with him. "What do you want me to say, Hermione? That I'm happy for you, somehow managing to conceive a child when you had informed me that you had been using contraceptives?"

"Oh, so you're going to blame me now, is that it?" I immediately stood up, hand gestures accentuating my frustration. "I'm not some money-mongering whore like your other mistresses, Lucius! You have a right to know, and I'm sorry that I wanted you to have a say in what I should do with this...this thing."

His eyes flickered upward when I called it a thing. Oh, Merlin, he really wasn't thinking-

"You cannot get rid of it. Despite its...grievous blood status, it is still magical and unfortunately, aborting a fetus with magical qualities is illegal within our world."

I knew my face was bright red. I was really, truly furious with him. More than I had ever been with Ron. "What if...what if it's a squib? Surely, we could-"

"Hermione, I'm starting to think that you would have aborted it despite my own opinion." He was standing nearer to me now, within arm's reach.

"I'm sorry I thought you wouldn't want anything to do with it because of its 'grievous blood status,' Lucius," I quickly retorted, my arms crossing in a defensive manner.

"As far as I'm concerned, you are the one who wants nothing to do with it. You only wanted confirmation from me," Lucius said, in a softer tone than I had ever heard.

Hold on, hold on, hold on. Is he really thinking what I think he's thinking?

"I am not going to raise this child alone," I said staunchly.

"I never said you would have to," he responded, still in that soft tone.

I inhaled deeply, letting my nerves relax. But then, all of the possible scenarios ran wild through my head... _War Heroine Having Death Eater's Child? _read the headline of the Daily Prophet, my father scolding me for not being responsible, Ron and Harry completely disowning me. There was no way out of this without some struggle unless I just got rid of it.

"No one can know about us," I whispered, glancing up towards his face to gauge his reaction. "If I have to keep it, no one can know it's yours."

"That is impossible," Lucius replied, "With the press hounding you literally everywhere you go, they will find out in due course."

"I can move to muggle London," I suggested. "My parents have a flat above their office that isn't being used, I can live there. The Prophet reporters are too apprehensive to head out that far into muggle London." I was just spouting out random ideas, really.

Lucius sighed. "Your friends will question you constantly."

"Ginny knows I had been sleeping around," I admitted, sheepishly. "She can tell everyone that it was just a one-night stand, that he didn't want it," I figured, moving to sit in a different chair that was further away from the man that was inching closer and closer to me. "If that is unfavorable for you-"

"No, no, that will do," he said, turning away from me.

"I'm sorry it has to happen this way. With your reputation and all I just...I just don't want to lose mine," I confessed, abashed.

I saw his expression change instantly. Like something had broken inside of him. He walked over and grabbed my hand, pulling me up forcefully. "Narcissa left me just before you and I began our relations. I came to you because I knew your reputation, as a lover and as a genuinely intelligent woman. I was willing to forego the thought of your blood status. I am getting past my days of bigotry and intolerance. The only thing that matters to me now is the well-being of my son." He inhaled deeply, catching his breath. "You say I have had many mistresses, and that is not true. It's only been you."

I really almost cried. I had not anticipated this sincerity from him, not in the least. But one thing still plagued my mind.

"Lucius...are you in love with me?" I asked with full trepidation.

His left hand raised up slowly, and he let his fingers tread lightly through my hair and down my cheek.

"No," he said, completely certain. "I don't think I ever could be."

It's normal for people's hearts to completely drop when they hear something like that said to them, but mine dropped more than I had expected it to.

"But this child is no different than Draco, understand that," He said, pressing his lips against my forehead. "You must go. I have a dinner party to attend soon."

I simply nodded, backing away from his form. " I'll owl you if I need you," I said, turning and walking swiftly out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door without looking back. I didn't want to know if he had watched me.

I knew I couldn't apparate back, but I was in Wiltshire and had no other means of getting home. I prepared myself to vomit when I would arrive in my flat, held my breath and after feeling like I was forced into a preposterously tight tube, I arrived in my sitting room.

I ran as fast as I possibly could to the toilet.

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><p>Once again, please take the time to review because they make me so happy! I won't hold it against you if you don't, though. Hits make me happy as well. :)<p>

Chapter three should be coming in the next four or five days! Probably after the weekend.

Thanks,  
>Bailey<p> 


	3. 27 September 2001, Part 3

A/N: Well, here's chapter three! This is pretty much just a filler chapter, but I'm really liking Hermione & Ginny's friendship right now. I'm not normally a Ginny fan, but she has some good qualities which are probably the only ones I'll focus on haha. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form.

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><p>The rest of my afternoon was spent in bed in one of Ron's old t-shirts, wallowing in self-pity with the bedsheets twisted around my legs. I hadn't quite expected Lucius to react in that way, so now the two hours of mental preparation I spent on inevitably getting an abortion was out the window. My mother would have killed me if she found out, though. She had such a difficult time getting pregnant, and here I am, knocked up even though I was on the pill. This was like some sort of karmic reaction my body was playing on me for deciding to not be the goody-two shoes girl I had always been.<p>

My cheeks were damp, and I was caught dabbing at them by my red-headed roommate. "Hey," he said, timidly. Ron's body was half-hidden by the doorframe and his hand was in his pocket. "Ginny gets off work in a couple hours, she said she'd come round then."

I sat up (a little slower than usual, I was still dizzy from my apparation trip), and I saw him glance at the t-shirt I was wearing. He grinned. "Thanks, Ron," I said, my voice crackling. I expected him to walk away, but he didn't. He didn't budge.

"I know you won't tell me what's wrong, Hermione," he began, his eyes cast downward, "because of my temper. But I'd really just like to know, sometime."

I smiled brightly, putting on a show. "Just got myself in a spot of trouble, that's all."

He looked at me a little disappointed. He nodded his head, and began to walk away.

"Wait," I called out. He turned around slowly, his eyes looking everywhere but me. "Ron, you'll know eventually. I promise."

"All right," he said, that stupid grin on his face again. "I'm not going anywhere tonight, so if you need anything..."

I giggled as he trailed off. "You've been such a good friend, Ron. But really, if you need to go somewhere tonight, go. I don't want to keep you from your nightly antics."

Ron's face illuminated. "Great, because Dean invited me over for a drink and I'd hate to turn him down," he spurted out.

I grabbed the nearest pillow to me and chucked it at him. "You're a prat, Ronald," I joked, and flung myself back down onto my bed. I heard his footsteps down the hallway, and the front door open and shut. My eyes became heavy and I decided that this was a prime opportunity for an afternoon nap.

But right as I began to doze off, a pair of hands shook me out of my impending slumber. "Urgh, Ginny, you weren't supposed to get off for another couple of hours," I complained, rubbing my eyes.

"It _has_ been a couple of hours, Hermione. It's nearly supper time," Ginny said, sitting herself down in the crook between my torso and my bent knees. "So," she said, smile on her face, "how'd it go?"

I was still half-asleep and my hair was a mess, as usual. I probably looked a fright. "Well," I said, phlegm still lodged in my throat, "it went alright. I mean, it could have gone better I guess. To be honest, I didn't want to keep it and then he said it was illegal to get rid of it and then he started getting really weird. I don't know. It was strange."

"Weird, like how?" Ginny said, pushing my body over so she could sit cross-legged next to me.

"It seemed like he was getting sentimental. He did say he left his wife, so that's a plus, but I honestly don't want to be with him at all. We were just together for the sex, which really was quite nice, I have to say."

Ginny playfully covered her ears. "As hypocritical as this may sound, I honestly do not want to hear any stories about your sexual escapades, thank you very much," she said forcefully.

I looked at her severely. I cannot even count the times I've heard about Harry's nether-regions, or Oliver's penchant for some weirdly kinky stuff, or that one time she had accidentally (read: so drunk she probably couldn't even tell if the person she was sleeping with was a male or female) slept with Gregory Goyle. She claims she only half-slept with him, because midway through she realized who she was fucking and hopped right off of him and ran for the door.

It's not like I've had my fair share of regrettable partners. Not in the sense that they were _bad_, but more like they were in the wrong crowd. How else would Lucius had heard of my sexual reputation? It was probably Blaise, anyways. He could have told Draco, and Draco would have thought that it was absolutely hilarious that he slept with the Mudblood girl that he just had to tell his father.

That means I could blame this whole situation on Draco's mouth. And _that _is a conversation that I am wholeheartedly looking forward to.

"Anyways," I drawled out, "the most awkward part was when Draco opened the front door after I had been-"

I stopped. Jesus Christ, did I just say that? I watched Ginny's facial expression shift, from confusion to what I think was a little bit of disgust to confusion yet again.

"Lucius Malfoy," she sounded out. "The father of your child is Lucius Malfoy."

I gulped. "Yes," I agreed, apprehensively.

"Do you not remember how he nearly killed me my first year?" She questioned monotonously. She looked so hurt by what I had done. And honestly, I couldn't blame her.

"Ginny," I murmured, "I didn't really think about it, I'm so sorry. It was so long ago."

Apparently what I had said to try to console her wasn't working in the least, because her body surged upward from my bed and headed for the door.

"I leave for Quidditch practice in two days. When I get back we can talk, I suppose," she said, not making direct eye contact with me anymore.

"Ginny, wait," I called out, getting out of bed for the first time in hours.

She stopped, and didn't bother turning around.

"I'm just as terrified as you are," I said, about as truthfully as possible.

She didn't turn around, but grabbed her handbag off of the hallway floor. "We'll talk when I get back, Hermione," she reiterated.

I didn't go out of my way to watch her leave, because I felt so awful. I crawled back into bed, letting the hem of Ron's t-shirt rise to my waist. This must have felt like the worst betrayal possible to her, not because I had slept with the man that had plotted her death but because I had completely forgotten. It was nearly ten years ago, so much had happened in those years that seemed so incomparable to a silly little diary (well, Horcrux. But we didn't have to bother with that one during the hunt, thankfully).

I could only hope that revealing this news to Ron and Harry would be half as bad as it was revealing it to Ginny. But really, who was I kidding, if anyone was going to react badly to this situation it would be Ron and Harry.

Finally, I decided that they would just have to wait. It's better anyways to tell people after your first trimester just in case, you know, I end up miscarrying. I had already planned on visiting my parents that weekend, and I might as well tell them then. My mother, if anyone, will understand if I miscarry since she had countless of times.

One can only hope.

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><p>AN: Sorry for such a short chapter, but it is just a filler. I plan on having Hermione's visit with her parents in the next chapter and maybe a talk with Lucius as well. If you guys want to see anything in particular, you can always send me ideas since this story is hardly planned out at all! I'm ready to take it in any direction that it can go.

Thanks for reading, and please review! They warm my soul :)

Bailey


	4. 30 September 2001

A/N: So, I'm really glad with the number of hits and really grateful for all of the reviews I've been getting! They really mean so much to me! So, as a present, I present you with a chapter that's probably twice as long as the others. This is my favorite one that I've written so far, and I'm very proud of it. Rating has been changed as well, and by the end of this you'll know why. :p

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form.

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><p>The next couple of days went by without a hitch. No one had noticed that I had missed half the day's work on Thursday, and the head of the Magical Law Enforcement department had owled me to discuss a possible change of careers. I politely declined, saying that it was not a suitable time for myself to start anew. She chuckled, and said, "Well, Miss Granger, I have had first hand account of your quick wit and problem solving skills, so be prepared for more offers!"<p>

I smiled kindly, "Yes, Madame Hopkirk, I will be!"

Maybe in a few years, I thought to myself. When I had the time, really. This wasn't just about me anymore, I had another person to think about. My life decisions weren't just governed by me anymore.

This was absolutely awful. I have this thing inside of me, probably the size of a sesame seed, that's keeping me from doing what I want to do. I mean, I could have said yes, but then I would have had to tell Madame Hopkirk of my situation and I really don't want anyone else knowing, not yet. That's what Sunday was for.

My parents had invited me over for lunch that Sunday, after they had arrived home from church. After regaining their memories, they realized what awful things I had survived through and thought it would be a good idea to return back to church. They hadn't been grateful enough, or something. After I had gone to Hogwarts, my interest in religion was obliterated. I would not let myself straddle between two extreme beliefs.

I dressed myself nicely, since my parents would want to celebrate my birthday that was a week and a half prior. I had a deep, jade colored dress that I bought at the beginning of summer that I hadn't worn yet. I slipped it on and fastened a thin belt around my waist, and didn't even bother with any make-up. It was my parents, they wouldn't care in the least.

My mother swung open the door when I arrived and quickly enveloped me in a hug. "Happy birthday, my sweet girl," she said, leaning back and kissing me on the cheek.

"So," she said, as she grabbed my handbag and hung it on the coat rack, "did you and your friends do anything fun to celebrate?"

"Not particularly," I stated, "just went out for drinks with Harry and the rest."

"Ah. So did Ronald come along?" She said, a knowing look in her face as she walked towards the kitchen, and I followed.

"Mum, Ron and I are not together. I've told you this countless of times," I whined, sitting myself down at the head of the table.

She sighed. "I know, but your father and I are just so fond of him."

"Where's dad?" I asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Oh, he just ran up to the Waitrose to pick up some food. Said he was craving sandwiches. Of all things to have on a Sunday!"

"Mum, it doesn't take a lot to please him," I joked, watching her stir some lemonade in a pitcher.

"Well," she began, but I cut her right off.

"Mum! I do not want to hear any of that," I screeched, covering my ears for my own sake. Mum and dad were _very _open about their sex life, and that was something I never wanted to hear about. Ever.

Finally, I heard my dad enter through the front door. "I'm back, Jane! Hermione here yet?" He called out, and I could hear him drop his keys on the coffee table and rustle around the grocery bag.

"She's in here, sweetheart," she said. I _hated _terms of endearment. I nearly shivered at the thought of Lucius calling me that, and not in a good way.

I saw my dad round the corner and set the grocery bag on the counter. He came around to hug me from behind, a huge smile on his face. "Give us a kiss then," he said, and laughed when I kissed him on the cheek.

"It's been so long, Hermione," he said, grabbing plates from the cabinet. "Anything interesting we should know about?"

I couldn't really blurt it out just yet. Easing into it would be a better idea. "Well, I got a job offer from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on Friday," I suggested, gauging my parents reaction as to if this was a decent conversation topic. Conversation was huge in the Granger household.

"Oh, really?" My mother said, fixing the sandwiches. "What would that entail, exactly?"

"It's sort of like becoming a lawyer," I said, and I saw my father's eyes brighten.

"And you said yes, then?"

"Er, no. I didn't."

The house became quiet again. This was quite unlike their ambitious Hermione.

My dad sighed, and I could tell he was disappointed. "It's a boy, then. That's why you said no," he stated, rubbing his hand across his forehead.

"Well, kind of," I said, squirming in my seat. It was coming, and it was coming a lot faster than I had anticipated.

It was awkward now, inside the kitchen. I could tell my mother was trying to console my father just from some comforting sidewards glances, and it wasn't particularly working.

"I don't have a boyfriend," I stated, trying to clear the air for the time being. "But I do have something to tell you."

My mother set my plate down in front of me, not saying a word until she and my father had sat themselves down beside me. "Alright," she said, "what is it?"

I sighed shakily. Here we go.

"I don't want you to be disappointed with me. I will try my hardest to make the best out of this, but right now, I honestly don't know what's going to happen," I began.

My mother placed her hand onto mine. I turned my hand over so I could clasp hers, just for some reassurance. Because I knew my mother would be the reasonable one, and my father's temper would flare and I _really _didn't want to cry in front of my parents.

"I'm pregnant," I exclaimed, my head falling forward to divert away from my parents' faces. I didn't want to see their initial reactions, because I knew those would be the worst of them all.

No one said anything for a long time. I heard the knife my father had used to cut his sandwich in half clatter against his plate. "Hermione," my mother began softly, "are you sure?"

"Yes. I went to Dr. Pennie on Thursday because I thought I was coming down with something but he told me that instead," I whispered, tears welling up. "I don't want you to be angry with me."

My mother smiled softly. "It's fine, sweetheart. A child is always a welcome blessing. Your cousin Andrea is having a baby next month, you know."

She forgot to mention that cousin Andrea had been married for nearly a decade and had two other children. I would not be getting married, and this child was not welcome, at least by me.

"Who's the father, then?" My father called out after wiping his mouth off with his napkin.

"Dad," I started, not really wanting to talk about Lucius.

"I want to know who the father of my grandchild is, Hermione," he said sternly, pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose.

"His name is Lucius," I said. "I am not dating him, nor will I be marrying him anytime soon."

My father nodded. "That's all I need to know."

We finished our lunch in silence. It was nearing two o'clock, and I decided it was a good time for me to leave. When I hugged my mother goodbye, she whispered to me, "Come back in a few weeks, we'll talk, just us."

She smiled and pressed her hand against my cheek. "I love you," she said, kissing my forehead, not unlike the way Lucius did a few days prior.

"Love you too, Mum," I smiled, and began to walk myself home.

–

The rest of the day was spent in my armchair at home, studying up on an old magical law tome, with Crookshanks purring at my feet. I was back in my pajamas again. Ron had left with Ginny to their week-long introductory Quidditch practice for the new season, leaving me alone in the flat for the next six days. They didn't play on the same team; Ron fulfilled his lifelong dream of playing with the Cannons, and Ginny was at Tutshill. She was the most promising of all the incoming players a couple of years ago, even had an offer from the Harpies, but turned it down so she could spend more time with her family. The war had hit her hard, especially after losing one of her brothers.

There was a pecking noise at the kitchen window. The only reason I had noticed it was when Crooks jumped up on the counter and started pawing at the glass, otherwise my nose would have still been buried in the pages of my book. An owl, a simple gray one, sat on the windowsill, impatiently pecking at the glass. I didn't recognize it.

I stood up quickly, dragging my foot along the floor as it had fallen asleep in the awkward position I had been sitting in. The latch on the window easily opened, and the owl gingerly flew in and settled itself on the edge of the sink. I took the parchment that hung from its leg with one hand, the other digging into a box of owl treats to give to the winged creature. When it had had its fill, I unrolled the note that read, _How are you? -LM_

Lucius never ceases to amaze me. During the time we had spent with each other, he was cold and his presence unfaltering. He was never, ever caring. Never asked me about my life, my friends, nothing. Just scholarly talk, mostly about the new, more effective version of the Wolfsbane potion, or the new rules considering the health and well-being of the aging witches and wizards that had lost their caretakers in the war (namely, their children). The talk that is spoken between two co-workers over cubicle walls, not between lovers.

I set the parchment down on the counter, rummaging around a drawer for a quill. _Please come and see me now_, I scrawled, a little untidier than usual. I reattached it to the owl's leg and watched him fly swiftly out of the window.

Expecting him to be here within the hour, I decided to tidy myself up again. At least he wouldn't have to complain about my lack of preparation for his visit, like he was important to me or something (I mean, he is the father of my child but still, I couldn't care any less for him). I slipped the dress on I had worn earlier to my parents', and ran a brush through my hair.

There, that's all he was going to get.

I padded, barefoot, back to my original space in my armchair, picking up the same book earlier. Quite a bit of time passed, and I had only read through three pages coherently. My thoughts kept traveling back to Lucius, and what exactly he wanted from me. Finally, I heard a popping noise from the landing outside, and scurried to open the door.

"Are you insane?" I whispered and grabbed him by the lapels to tug him inside, "Someone could see you!"

He seemed shocked by my actions. "This isn't my first time here, Hermione," he pointed out.

"Yes, but that last time was at three o'clock in the morning," I yelled shrilly. I didn't mean to get this pissed off, but something about him just set me off. Oh, probably that thing where he impregnated me with what would be his pompous Malfoy progeny.

I really don't think I could handle a little Draco without driving myself mad.

"Well, I apologize, then," he said, straightening his coat jacket.

Really? That was unlike him.

"You don't have to be nice to me now. I know you despise me," I said, pointing my finger towards the sofa, indicating that he should sit there. And he did.

He sighed deeply. "I don't _despise_ you. I haven't in a very long time," he said, and I knew he was thinking of the first time he met me. I was twelve. The fact that he could hate a twelve-year-old showed his promise as a father to my child.

"I want to set some ground rules," I blurted out, changing the subject quickly. I hadn't even bothered sitting down yet; being higher than him made me think I had some sort of hold on him. We made eye contact for the first time just then, and I knew the gears were turning. He loved negotiations, that's practically what our relationship subsided on.

"If, somehow, this news gets out to the press, we will carry on as we are. No wedding to cover it up, nothing. I have no desire to be married to you, nor being in a relationship. I will not allow this child to live in a sham of a family."

It sounded harsher than I had originally planned, but at least it got the point across.

"I do not wish to be married to you, either," he said, slowly. "But Draco will find out eventually, and I am certain he will react unfavorably. He still harbors a grudge against you, it seems."

At least one Malfoy is acting the way he should.

"He means nothing to me, Lucius. Just a bratty kid I went to school with," I spit out fiercely. And apparently, that did not go down well with him. Lucius rapidly stood up and grabbed me by the shoulders, shoving me against the bookcase behind me. The shelf rocked back and forth from the force.

"He is my son," he reminded me, his eyes, fiery, boring into my own, "Draco and your child will be essentially equal in my eyes, despite any indignation he will hold against you two."

I didn't say anything in return. He was so close to me, he smelled just the way he did when we were seeing each other. It was musky, almost like sweat but sweeter, the way a man should smell like. Not like any of the boys I had slept with. My knickers were wet, I could feel it, and I swear he could sense it as well.

"Please," I whimpered, not really knowing why I had said it, nor what I had meant by it. He knew, though, and the moment his lips landed on my throat I moaned in relief. He let them trail up to my jaw, and pulled away once they had reached my own. He let my shoulders go, and we were mere inches from each other.

My hands found themselves tangled behind the nape of his neck, pulling him to crash down on my lips. He felt so good, I had deprived myself of this for so long. I mentally kicked myself for letting this go, this feeling of pure ecstasy that I had never felt with anyone before. He set me on fire.

He groaned, pressing his already hard length against my abdomen. I shivered in anticipation, not even caring if he took me right against this bookcase at all. My hands moved to unbutton his shirt, his teeth nipping my bottom lip in assurance, and halfway down, a noise nearly startled me out of his embrace.

"Hermione?" I heard Harry call out after knocking on my door. "Hermione, just here to see if you want to go out to dinner with me. I've got Teddy with me."

"Shit, fuck!" I whispered, and Lucius had already let go of me and swiftly retrieved his wand from the coffee table. "Coming," I yelled, and I saw Lucius smile devilishly. I swatted him on the arm, and he returned to me, his lips level with my ear.

"Wear that dress next time, witch, and you will grovel at my feet for the things I'll do to you," he whispered hoarsely, and then he disappeared before my eyes.

Oh Jesus fucking Christ.

"Aunt 'Mione, Aunt 'Mione, open the door!" Teddy yelled, bringing me out of my near-reverie of what Lucius would do to me next time. Fuck.

I swung the door open, and my favorite shocking green-haired little boy tackled my legs. "Hi, sweetheart!" I said, laughing as I bent down to pick him up, resting him on my hip.

"Look what Uncle Harry got me!" He screeched, pointing at the small toy broom in Harry's left hand.

My eyes widened, I wouldn't let that child near a broom, let alone operate one. He was about twice as clumsy as his mother, if that put things into perspective. "Teddy, what a lovely gift! Did you say thank you?"

Teddy nodded, squirming himself down from my arms. I finally got a good look at Harry, and gave him a hug. "All right?" He asked, pulling me back to kiss my cheek.

"Yeah," I said, smiling. It was always good to see Harry, since that was hardly at all considering his job at the Auror Department. And it was especially good to see Teddy, who I was sure was the sweetest boy that ever lived. Takes after both of his parents that way.

He tapped the side of my neck, and chuckled, "Apparently so, since you've got a couple of love bites."

My eyes widened in horror, and my hand slapped over the spot he had pointed out. "Shit, sorry, Harry, you just surprised me," I apologized, watching as Teddy tried to tug the toy broom out of his godfather's hand.

"Anyone here I should know about?" He said, jokingly craning his neck to look down the hallway that led to my bedroom.

I shook my head vehemently, "No, he's gone," I said, thankful, "Now, did you say something about dinner?"

"Yeah, I did, and maybe something about ice cream afterward," he said, his eyebrows waggling.

"Ice cream!" Teddy yelled, tugging at Harry's hand again. "Ice cream, I never get ice cream! Can we go now, please?"

I laughed, punching Harry softly on his shoulder. "Let's go now, I've got work in the morning and I don't want to be out late," I said, sliding on some shoes that were left haphazardly next to the front door.

This more than makes up for the amazing sex I nearly had with Lucius.

* * *

><p>AN: I figured Teddy calling Harry and Hermione (and Ron as well) 'aunt' and 'uncle' would be pretty accurate, to make Teddy believe that they were family (which, of course they are, even though not by blood). I really hope you guys enjoyed it, and as usual, please review! Reviews keep my soul alive! And they keep me writing more :)

Bailey


	5. 20 October 2001

A/N: I'm so happy about all the reviews and alerts and hits I got for the last chapter! Thanks so much, you guys! This chapter was so much fun to write, and I hope you guys like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form.

* * *

><p>A few weeks had passed since that incident, as I liked to refer to it, and neither of us had owled each other. It was good, because I had come to my senses about him. We were done, officially, weeks ago, and just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean everything is tossed out of the window. We wouldn't even be speaking to each other if this hadn't happened.<p>

My mother had accompanied me to my first doctor's appointment, and I hadn't even bothered to tell Lucius about it. I didn't know how he would fare in such a Muggle environment, but I promised myself that he would come to the next one. I owed him that, at least.

I learned that the baby was due at the end of May. My mother, a blubbering mess when confronted with anything emotional, was crying while we listened to its fluttering heartbeat. I can't explain what I felt then; my throat constricted with impending tears, and my fists clenched with the need to punch Lucius square in the jaw for doing this to me. I was so unbelievably frustrated.

On the fifteenth of October, I caught wind of the Malfoys' first dinner party since before the Dark Lord's defeat. It was in honor of Draco, and the gossip was that he was to be announcing his engagement to Astoria Greengrass. Astoria, who I'm sure was barely nineteen, was a beautiful girl, and I suppose I was glad that Draco would be able to move on after the war.

By the time I returned home (to Ron snoring loudly on the couch), there was a note left next to the kitchen sink. Thankfully Ron had left the window open so he would not have read the note himself, because I knew who it was from.

_Hermione_, it read, _if you have not received an invitation already, I formally invite you to our soiree this Saturday evening. Potter and his girlfriend will be there, so your appearance will not be questioned. -LM_

I could feel the blush creep up my cheeks at the sight of his beautiful scrawl, and I stomped it down quickly. No, he wasn't doing that to me anymore. I will not give him the satisfaction.

"Ron," I yelled, shoving his feet off the last cushion of the sofa, and sitting down.

"Wha' izzit?" He murmured, rubbing at his eyes with both of his hands.

I sighed, holding my hand out so he could pull himself up. "Ron, who is Harry dating? I know it isn't Ginny, she's with Dean again..." And it was doomed from the start, like it was the past three times.

"Oh, you didn't hear? Him and Luna have been hooking up for a while now, Harry just made it official a couple of weeks ago," Ron said, attempting to grab the parchment out of my hand to see what had made me question him.

"Oh," I said, crestfallen, "he never told me any of that."

He smiled, and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Well, if you had gone to dinner with us last weekend you would've found out, but no, you spent the night vomiting your guts out in the bathroom."

Right. My morning sickness was being quite vicious in the evenings, and I could even feel it bubbling in my stomach as I sat there with Ron. "Oh, Ron, I'm really sorry about all this. I guess I just have a bug that won't go away," I lied. All this lying was getting to my conscience, I don't think I could handle it for much longer.

"'Mione," he began, in that tone that he got where he _knew _I was going to berate him, "Erm, I just casually mentioned your illness to Mum the last time I was there, and she was wondering...well, she wanted me to ask you if you were pregnant."

"What?" I said, haughtily, "Of course not, who do you think I've been sleeping with, Ronald?"

Okay, maybe I came on a little hard, but he was afraid already so I wasn't worried that he might find out.

"Well, it obviously wasn't me! Mum thinks she's got a new grandkid on the way now, since you haven't let me tell her that we aren't together anymore! So, you get to break this news to her, not me," he said, quite affronted, and left the sofa to retreat to his bedroom.

I decided to put this meeting with Molly off until the next weekend, when I wasn't worrying about this Malfoy party. I sighed, again, and laid down across the sofa. I grabbed my mobile that was stuffed in my back pocket, and decided to call my mum.

It went straight to voice mail. "Hi, mum, just calling to say hello. I got invited to a dinner party this weekend and maybe you want to go with me to shop for a dress on Friday. Call me back, love you," I said, before flipping my phone shut.

Absentmindedly, my hand traveled down to the hem of my shirt and lifted it up, letting my fingers tread lightly over the soft skin of my abdomen. I wasn't showing much yet, my stomach protruding just a little more than usual. I probably looked like I had gained some weight to anyone who really noticed.

My first trimester was ending within a month, and I was absolutely terrified to tell my friends. Ginny still hadn't talked to me much, and our relationship was very strained since she found out about Lucius. Harry had noticed this when she and her brother returned from Quidditch training, and I explained to him that we just had a row about some girly stuff. That shut him up quickly.

Things were about to get much more difficult.

* * *

><p>The dress I had picked out with my mother was made of navy organza, and the waist was seamed at my natural waist line, so my practically non-existent bump wouldn't show through. I met up with Harry and Luna at his place, and we all apparated together. Apparition wasn't so bad when it was side-along, where I didn't have to concentrate on where I was going and could focus more on not getting sick.<p>

"So," Luna said, serenely, as we walked up to the gate of Malfoy Manor, "are we all assuming that Draco and Astoria are engaged?"

We both nodded, flanking either side of her.

"That's so lovely, they're such a beautiful couple," she said, completely in her own world.

I gave a quizzical look to Harry, and he just shrugged his shoulders. I couldn't understand how he put up with her, but they both led tragically similar lives. Her father was found dead in Azkaban the day after the Battle at Hogwarts, and now neither of them had any sort of parental figure to rely on.

We were greeted by two house elves that were dressed in what seemed to be very fine linen pillowcases, much better than what they had clothed Dobby in so many years ago. I smiled triumphantly, apparently my work on the treatment of house elves had not gone unnoticed in the Malfoy household.

The moment we walked into the ballroom, I spotted him immediately. He was staring at the doors, expecting my entrance. "Mister Harry Potter and Miss Hermione Granger, both Order of Merlin, first class, and Miss Luna Lovegood, Order of Merlin, second class," a male voice called out of nowhere, announcing us to the crowd. Of course, everyone turned to stare and then applaud.

All three of us smiled and nodded awkwardly, we were still very apprehensive about all the attention we got for the battle. It reminded us of a time that we honestly wished could be erased from our minds, and the more attention, the worse it was. This was nearly unbearable for me, there were so many people here who had no idea what had gone on in this room just a few years ago. Luna and Harry were imprisoned in the dungeon right below them, and I was tortured for the fun of it in the room across the hall.

"Let's all not mention anything about the war, all right?" Harry said quietly enough for just us to hear. Luna and I locked gazes in an understanding.

Finally, all three of us were swept into conversations from the highest dignitaries in the wizarding world. I hadn't seen Lucius since I had entered the room, and my eyes had scanned it through several times over. He was gone.

I excused myself from the conversation I was having with Shacklebolt and his wife to head to the powder room, as my stomach was rumbling with impending heaves. Before I could reach for the handle, a hand firmly grasped itself around my upper arm and pulled me to the wall behind the staircase. It was dark in that corner, and I could only tell who had hold of me from his scent.

The sweet, sweet musky scent filled my nostrils and the nauseous feeling I had moments earlier dissipated quickly. I brought my gaze up to his, and I could see the look of feral hunger in his eyes.

"You tease me, Hermione, dressing like this," he whispered harshly before pressing his lips lightly on the space that connected my neck to my shoulders. My eyelids fluttered in response. "Such a beautiful dress on an equally beautiful woman." He always said these things to get into my pants, and it shouldn't phase me, but it was different this time. Almost like he meant it.

I placed both of my hands on the sides of his face, and let his lips crash into mine. I wasn't going to let him leave his mark on me for all to see, like last time with Harry. It didn't take long for his tongue to prod into my mouth, and I groaned at the invasion. He placed one hand on the wall above me, and the other was gripped the base of my skull, his fingers tangled in my hair, ruining my updo. He pressed himself further against me, and the friction of his hardness against my body caused both of us to moan.

"Need you now," he grunted, letting go of my head to hike up my dress around my waist and rip off the underwear I was wearing.

He pressed his lips against mine again, and I realized how this went against everything I had thought of earlier this week. He was not going to use me like this, and as his fingers went down to tease my clit, I came to my senses.

"May twenty-fourth," I rasped, trying to push him off of me.

He stopped suddenly, thank goodness. "What?" He murmured.

"May twenty-fourth, that's when the baby's due," I said, placing my hands on his shoulders as he retreated from me. I felt my dress fall a few inches, and I repaired my underwear with my wand quickly and slipped them back on.

"Really?" He whispered, eyebrows furrowing.

I smiled, watching him realize that this was actually real. He was having a child with the Mudblood girl his son had always so despised, and it would be here in approximately seven months.

"I would've told you sooner, but I've been so busy and I-"

"May I?" He cut in, raising his hand to the level of my stomach.

"Lucius, you just nearly had your way with me against a wall, of course you can," I laughed softly, grabbing his hand and pressing it against my bare abdomen. I watched his facial expression change, he had a small smile on his face. It was almost charming.

We stood there for several minutes, his hand lingering over the same spot. "You are glowing, you know," he said, looking me in the eye for the first time since his hand was placed on my stomach.

Before I could get out my thanks, a gasp from next to us brought us out of the moment.

Astoria Greengrass stood a mere two feet away from us, with her hand clamped over her mouth in shock. "M-Mr. Malfoy, I'm so sorry," she said, before quickly turning around and heading the other direction.

Lucius' nostrils flared in anger. "Astoria, get back here at once," he called out, and she returned seconds later.

I couldn't even look at her in the face. This was quite possibly the worst situation we could get in at the moment, and being caught by Draco's fiancée was doubly worse. "Astoria, this must never be mentioned to my son, do you understand? This never, ever happened," he said, furiously, as he pulled down the skirt of my dress over my legs.

Tears were stinging my eyes, and I looked to Lucius for comfort. This wasn't good at all, she would surely tell Draco, and I didn't understand why he just didn't Obliviate her on the spot.

I assumed she nodded, because she didn't say anything else before I heard her walk away.

"Lucius, Lucius," I heaved his name, sobs bursting from my throat. "She's going to tell him, she will! I can't...no one can...Lucius, no one can know! That's what we agreed on!"

"Shh," he said, leading me down the hallway through another doorway.

As he shut the door, I yanked on his arm to get him to face me. My hand raised, and I let myself slap him across his cheek with a resounding crack. "Lucius, you fucking bastard, why didn't you just Obliviate the girl?" I wailed, tears profusely running down to fall off my chin.

He stood there, taking it all in stride. Why wasn't he reacting? I pounding my fists against his chest in frustration, my whole world was about to end, and he didn't do a damn thing about it.

Finally, he grabbed my wrists forcibly, and yelled, "Stop it, you insolent girl! You're being completely absurd."

I let one final sob rack my body, before I fell into his. He was right, I suppose. My reactions weren't really tasteful as of late. "Take me home, please. I just want to go home."

He took my hand and we quickly apparated into my bedroom at home. I could hear Ron snoring all the way from his room, thankful that his Quidditch practice today exhausted him. "Take it...take it off," I said, wiping the dark tears off my cheeks.

His hands quickly found the zipper on the back of my dress and he undid it, guiding me out of it. He grabbed a shirt that was tossed on my bed and pulled it over my head. I collapsed against his form, too on-edge to even hold myself up.

He walked me to my bed, laying me across it. As he retreated to disapparate, my hand reached out towards his, instinctively.

"Stay," I whispered, watching as he considered it. He stepped around to the other side of my bed, removed his coat jacket and his shoes and slipped into bed next to me.

His hand found mine underneath the sheets, and I quickly drifted off, the scent of my lover lulling me to sleep.

* * *

><p>AN: Ahhhhhh, this is getting so intense! Next chapter might skip a few weeks again, I need to get this moving along. :)

Please please please review! They are food for my soul!

Thanks for reading!  
>Bailey<p> 


	6. 21 October 2001

A/N: Wow, so so sorry it's taken me forever to update! I was suffering from some severe writer's block, and then I had to dogsit three dogs for a while...ugh, just not a good week for me! I start school on the 22nd, so hopefully I can get a few more chapters in before my studies devour any free time I may have.

Lots of dialogue in this one, a fair warning!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. Sadly.

* * *

><p>I woke up the next morning alone. I rushed to the front door, hoping that the Sunday edition of the Daily Prophet had been dropped on my doorstep. But when I stepped out to the living room, Ronald was already perusing through it, a piece of buttered toast in one hand.<p>

"Anything interesting?" I asked, trying not to look desperate.

"Nah," he said, taking a bite of toast, "Malfoy's got engaged, that's about the most exciting bit of news, if that puts things into perspective."

I sighed in relief.

"What? Expecting all your dirty little secrets all over the front page?" He joked, folding the paper in half and tossing it onto the coffee table.

"Something like that," I murmured, heading back to my bedroom to get ready for the day.

He called my name out, and I didn't bother responding. I should be ecstatic that Astoria kept her word, but somehow, I felt that the faster the news would get out the less stressed I would be. I desperately wanted this trimester to end so I could just _tell _someone, on purpose this time. I hadn't spoken to Ginny in nearly a month now. Obviously, she wasn't pleased with this predicament I had gotten myself into but she should have come to her senses by now, at least.

If Ginny was that hurt, Ron and Harry would react twice as badly. I shuddered at that thought, and turned around to turn the taps to the bath. The next month would be absolutely maddening, letting this news bubble up inside of me with no chance at abatement.

Shedding my clothes, I averted my gaze from the mirror. I didn't like looking at myself these days.

I submerged myself in the tub, holding my breath for as long as possible.

After all, that's all I was doing as of late. Holding my breath.

–

The bath was relaxing enough, and I was thrilled to have a whole Sunday to spend to myself before the long work week. I thought of maybe taking a walk in Muggle London, through Hyde Park to clear my head a little. I glanced through the tiny glazed window that was above the toilet, and surprisingly, it was sunny outside. Smiling, I wrapped the towel around myself and dashed for my room to get dressed.

I headed blindly towards my dresser, tossing the damp towel on my bed. Having recently perfected a drying spell that wouldn't turn my hair into a complete ball of frizz, I applied it and flipped my hair forward, running a brush through it. I felt a tingling sensation on the back of my neck, like someone was watching me, and when I slowly flipped my hair back, I glanced into the mirror. I was not wrong.

Suddenly, I felt the urge to cover myself, but that feeling faded quickly. It was just Lucius, and he had seen me nude more times than I could count. I lowered my gaze, and set my brush back down on the dresser.

"Ron could have heard you," I said, my voice tiresome.

He nodded. "I like taking my chances. I apologize if that is untoward."

I began dressing myself. Eventually, I pulled on a pair of jeans, and I didn't bother to button them because they wouldn't anyway. My face was beginning to flush, I could feel it, when I heard his calculated footsteps round my bed towards me.

"I apologize for leaving this morning, I had things to attend to," he said, and I could feel his breath hot on my shoulder.

I exhaled deeply through my nose. "Stop apologizing for everything," I said, turning to face him. I was taken aback at first, he was closer than I had imagined.

He didn't say anything. I watched his chest rise and fall, rise and fall, and I shoved any urge to touch him to the back of my mind. His hand rose, presumably to caress my cheek, or tuck my ear behind my ear, something really bloody cutesy like that, but I quickly grabbed hold of his wrist before he could make any contact.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Lucius," I said angrily. "We were done weeks ago, and just because we've found ourselves in this...this circumstance, doesn't mean what I said goes out the fucking window."

He pressed his lips hungrily against mine. Apparently what I had just said didn't comprehend.

"Listen to me, my sweet Mudblood," he said, pulling back just millimeters, and I felt my whole body shudder when he called me that. It was something he had not called me in many years, and the way I reacted to it today was definitely not the way I had reacted to it during my school years. "Obviously, you have not realized that because of this," he dragged his hand that had been gripping my waist over to the tiny bump of my abdomen, "we are tied together forever, whether you like it or not. So please, make up your clever little mind about this."

His eyes were boring into my own, waiting for my answer before he played his next move. "This is just lust, Lucius. You will grow tired of me someday, and I'll just be the Mudblood whore that gave you a bastard child. You do not have the capability to love me."

Nostrils flaring, he trapped me in between the dresser and his body. "You say this, Hermione, with such determination. How can you doubt me this much when you doubt yourself?"

I pressed my hands firmly against his chest, willing him to move, but he didn't budge. "Please stop," I whispered, gripping at his wrists.

"Why did you decide to sleep with me? Not just the first time, but every time after that? What was going through your mind? I know you've hated me since you were just a child. What changed? What made you so desperate to _fuck_," he practically growled, his grip on my hips tightening enough to leave bruises, "your sworn enemy?"

I felt tears prickling on my eyelids. "I don't know," I whimpered.

"You don't know?" he chided. "The brightest witch in generations, doesn't know what caused her to make her own decisions?"

"Stop," I pleaded, finally letting out a sob. "Please, please..." I trailed off.

"No," he maintained, "I am not letting you go until you tell me _why_."

I sobbed again, racking through my brain for a suitable answer. I couldn't even think straight.

"I can have everything I want," he said, "and I wanted you, just once. But you kept coming back."

"Lucius, why are you doing this now?" I wept, pressing myself fully against him for support in case I crumbled to the floor.

"Tell me," he barked, not letting up. My tears were soaking into his shirt.

I sighed, my vocal chords trembling in between sobs. I didn't want him to know the answer, I didn't want him to think any less of me. The one girl in the wizarding world that literally could have had anything, anything at all, yet she still felt inadequate. Something was missing.

"I'm so empty," I blurted, soaking his shirt even more with another burst of tears. "There's no reason for me to be here anymore. My whole existence as a witch was spent helping to defeat Voldemort, I was working towards something, and now what do I have to look forward to? What do I have to dread?"

His grip on me slackened, and then he released me completely. I was still against him, and I felt his hands wrap around me, one cradling my head against his chest.

"I got pregnant the last time we were together, did you know? The last time. I hadn't even intended to sleep with you when I went over to tell you that I was done," I confessed, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

"Everything happens for a reason," he said, pulling me off of him.

I turned to grab a tissue from the dresser to dab the remaining wetness from underneath my eyes. I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I went back to the Manor this morning," he informed me, "to have breakfast with Draco and Narcissa."

"Narcissa?" I queried, my gut dropping in a twinge of jealousy.

"She was at the party last night, she decided to stay until this morning," he said, stiffly. "However, Astoria wasn't feeling well this morning."

I had completely forgotten about what happened with Astoria last night during Lucius' inquisition.

"She's going to tell Draco, I know it," I said, "It's what girls do."

He agreed with a nod of his head. "I would have Obliviated her last night if she had been some common girl. Come July, she'll be a Malfoy, and sabotaging my family is not within my power.

"We can only hope that she'll do the right thing by us," he murmured.

I sighed. "Lucius, she's a nineteen year old girl. The only person that matters in the world to her at the moment is Draco. She doesn't give a damn about what we want."

"Despite your beliefs about those who come from Pureblood families," he began, "Astoria is astoundingly warmhearted. I have no doubt that she will look at it from both sides, ours and Draco's, and she'll decide what's best," Lucius assured me, leaving a kiss on my forehead.

"When this gets out," I sighed, not believing one word he had just said, "you can't leave me alone."

He chuckled, very unlike him. "When have I ever led you to believe that I would leave you?"

Unexpectedly, a tentative knock came from my door.

"Hermione," Ron said, drawing my name out, unsure. "You don't have a bloke in there, have you?"

I glared apologetically at Lucius for not setting a silencing charm on my room.

"Er, no, of course not! Who would I have in here?" I said, pretty damn convincingly.

"Oh...alright," Ron said, and I could hear his footsteps shuffle back down the hallway.

I grinned in embarrassment. "Sorry," I said, sitting down on my bed, applying a much needed silencing charm on the door.

"Someday," he started, "we'll have a conversation that won't be interrupted."

As he closed his eyes to disapparate, I called out his name to stop him. His eyebrows furrowed.

"I've got a scan on the seventh of December. Do you want to come?" I lowered my head, and rubbed my feet against each other in apprehension.

"A scan?" He asked, sitting himself down next to me.

"It's sort of like being able to see the baby, but a bit more complicated than that. It's a Muggle thing, which is why I didn't know if you would feel comfortable in that environment. Plus my mother was an absolute mess when I took her along and I honestly don't think I could handle that again, and-"

He pressed two fingers on my lips, silencing me. "Of course I'll go," he said simply, rising again and disapparating.

Suddenly I had that feeling that I got in school when I caught Ron staring at me, and quietly told myself to stop acting like a complete fool and leaned back onto the bed fully.

It wasn't even noon yet and I was already exhausted.

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><p>AN: Yep, so...I had a lot of fun writing this one! Harry and Ron's reaction WILL be in the next chapter, I promise!

Review, my lovelies! They make me so happy! And go read PrincessIsabella2012's fic because I'm beta-ing for her now :)

Bailey


	7. 24 November 2001

A/N: Uh...hey guys! Sorry it's been a while. This was a hard chapter for me to write, for some reason. And sadly, I start school on Monday so updates will probably be every one to two weeks, depending on how awful my classes are.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Harry Potter. lesigh.

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><p>Today was the day. It was a generally gloomy late-November afternoon, clouds hanging low and gray over the rows of buildings that surrounded Diagon Alley. Every few minutes I anxiously glanced through the kitchen window that provided a lovely view down to the street below. Ginny would be arriving shortly, to provide a meager amount of moral support. She could only stay for a little while, she had a Quidditch game that evening in Edinburgh.<p>

After what must have been the twentieth glance out the window in just as many minutes, the red-headed woman rounded the corner and waved happily to me from the sidewalk. We had made up the weekend after Draco's engagement announcement party, and all had been well since then. She had even given me a small, stuffed bunny for the baby after I had begged for her forgiveness.

"Hermione, stop making a fool of yourself. I'm not here to yell at you," she said, holding out a worn, pink (it possibly could have been red at some point) stuffed animal. "This was mine when I was little, and I had planned on giving it to my first niece or nephew."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "You have two already, Gin."

"Yes, but _Fleur_ is their mother and she was 'not going to let anything zat dirtee touch ze precious child.' Toad of a woman," Ginny scoffed, "I didn't even bother trying to give it to Dominique after that. And so now you're the next one...so here."

The peace offering had brought a sense of calm over the two of us, and I was so ecstatic that she had finally come to terms with my pregnancy, and the father.

"Hell, I could have gotten knocked up by some of the Slytherin scum I'm so prone to shagging whilst drunk out of my mind. Things like this happen to the best of us," she encouraged me one morning after a particularly grueling Quidditch game of hers that had lasted well through the night.

Finally, she walked in through the front door, and greeted me with a large grin before shedding her raincoat.

"Awful day, isn't it?" She quipped, hanging her coat on a hook by the door.

"Ugh," I sighed, "don't remind me."

She walked towards me, putting her hands on both of my shoulders. "Now, we all now my brother's going to be a prat about this. But Harry...he's reasonable. He may not like it, but he knows he'll have to accept it," she said, a closed-lipped smile gracing her face before she leaned down to kiss my cheek. She was the only Weasley child that wasn't at least a good eight inches taller than me. She was only five.

"I'm still worried about Ron, though. It'll be like you, but instead of quietly storming off it'll be a good half hour of 'how could you? He's our enemy!'"

Ginny laughed. "You're right. Can't put it off any longer though," she said, gesturing towards my ever-growing midsection. It felt like it had doubled in size in the past few days, and had grown just as uncomfortable. I was glad the cold weather had finally settled in, so my daily use of oversized jumpers had gone generally unnoticed by Ron.

I turned away from her to finish rinsing some plates in the sink. "Maybe I just won't tell them about Lucius," I said, running a soapy sponge over the mug I had used this morning for tea.

One of the chairs at the table dragged along the tiled floor as Ginny pulled it out to sit down. "Yes, because when you tell them you're pregnant they're definitely not going to want to know who did this to their precious, virginal Hermione," she said, her voice sour with sarcasm.

I scoffed. "I don't know why they get so worked up about my sex life. I've slept with both of them, you know, and they probably haven't even compared their trysts."

Ginny laughed, her hand closing over her mouth. "It's because Harry still hasn't told him about it. He told me that while we were dating," she pointed out.

Sleeping with Harry was a huge, colossal mistake. It was during our many-month camping trip, after Ron had left, and I was miserable and Harry was just trying to comfort me. It wasn't even awkward, almost _too _not awkward. We were so comfortable with each other, and for a very brief time, I thought that maybe we could make it work. But then I realized he was my absolute best friend, and I could not allow sex to ruin what we had. It wasn't worth it.

"The longer he waits the worse it's going to get," I murmured, drying off the various dishes.

"Which is exactly why," Ginny began, standing up to help me put the dishes away, "you can't put telling them about the baby off any longer. Today's the day."

Harry and Ron arrived soon after Ginny had left. I was careful to not lean into them too much when they hugged me, and precariously shifted around my jumper to remove any notion of a bump.

Harry had brought along some Indian take-out for lunch, and the conversation we had was generally humorous and goodhearted, just as it always had been. Finally, as they had both been going on and on about the most recent Quidditch matches, I decided to clean up.

While I was at the sink cleaning off the utensils we had used, Harry sidled up to me.

"Are you all right? You've been a bit quiet today," he queried, drumming his fingers on the counter top.

I nodded fiercely. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Just a little...anxious, I guess."

"Oh, okay," he said, sighing, before turning around to head towards the sofa where Ron had relocated.

I grabbed his upper arm before he got too far from me. "I have to tell you both something, but you cannot...you absolutely _cannot _be angry with me, all right? I know Ron will be furious, but you are my rock and I don't think I could handle you going ballistic," I said under my breath, soft enough for Ron not to notice.

I saw a flash of fear go across his eyes, and he nodded once before joining Ron.

When I joined them, my hands were shaking. I cleared my throat, and over the years, that had become my signal for them to shut up. And, obediently, they did just that.

"I have some news," I said, fiddling around with the hem of my jumper, not looking at either of them.

It was eerily quiet between the two of them now. Ron shifted in his seat, facing towards me.

"Well?" He goaded, throwing his head back to yawn. Harry said nothing, just merely placed his hand on my knee for reassurance. I looked at him, biting my lip, and he gave me one of his quirky half-smiles.

I was so insanely nervous I could feel bile rising in my throat, and I couldn't understand why this was so difficult for me. Ginny was probably spot on in her predictions of their reactions, but every scenario that ran through my head was twice as worse than what she said. I wasn't even facing them now. Harry's hand had retracted from my knee when I brought them up underneath my chin.

"Out with it, 'Mione," Ron said, looking a little impatient.

"Can't be that bad, can it?" Harry added, this time reaching out to touch my arm. I leaned away.

"Mum still thinks you're pregnant, by the way. She told me she's certain the last time we saw her." Ron laughed after saying this, probably from the absurdity of it. I remember the look on Molly's face when Ron and I ran into her at George's shop a few days ago.

"Well, Hermione, you're looking...lovely, aren't you?" She had said, smiling, her eyes scoping out my ever-changing body. I just hoped she had the tact to not mention it to her sons when I turned around to leave, but of course, she just _had _to tell someone.

I'm not bitter, but she should have realized that if I hadn't told anyone by then, obviously I didn't want _Ron_ to know of all people.

"She's right, though," I murmured into my knees, and squeezing my eyes shut tightly.

It felt like all the air was sucked from the room. When I finally mustered up enough courage to look up at them, their faces were near identical. Mouths gaping, eyes as big as saucers, faces that had lost their color. Harry finally shook himself out of his stupor, and all he could stumble over was, "Seriously? I mean, really? Really pregnant? Herm...Hermione, are you sure?"

"Harry, I'm three months along," I deadpanned, watching him process the information.

"Oh," he whispered, his voice higher than normal.

I scoffed as I stood up, generally disappointed in their reactions. I had, however, shaken myself up so much that my last meal was on the verge of being lost, so I headed towards the bathroom just in case.

Before I reached the door, I heard Ron's voice growling in what I could only describe as fury. "Who...who did this to you?"

I placed my hand on the doorknob, not bothering to turn around. "Not now, Ron," I pleaded, my voice catching in my throat a little. For some reason, I hadn't expected for either of them to ask me that question. Stupidly, that thought never crossed my mind. Telling them that it was just a result of a one-night stand seemed futile now, they wouldn't accept that.

Lucius would be furious if he found out that I had told them. I shuddered thinking of his reaction.

"No, Hermione, right now," he demanded, and I could hear him stand up from the sofa. "I know you've been sneaking blokes in, I've heard them. And isn't it _funny_ that Harry noticed that you disappeared from Malfoy's party in thirty minutes? Couldn't stand to be around him, eh? You think I haven't noticed these things, but I have. I'm not as daft as you lead yourself to believe!"

My stomach dropped. I turned quickly on my heel, trying to look as unfazed as possible, but the tears welling up in my eyes gave everything away. "What are you trying to insinuate, Ronald?"

Harry noticed the inflection of my voice, he knew that this would be worse than the usual bickering. "Uh, Ron, maybe you should just leave this alone for now," he suggested, standing in between us.

"No, I don't think I will," he spat, trying to shove Harry out of the way. "Hermione's just shagging away with fucking _Malfoy_ of all people, and you expect me to leave it alone?"

I guffawed. "Draco Malfoy? You are _daft_, Ronald Weasley. Never in my life would I even consider sleeping with him!"

Well, it was true.

"We are not doing this now, Ron, all right?" Harry said, placing his hands on his shoulders, shoving him towards the front door. "You've got a Quidditch game to get to now, right? Go support your sister," he suggested.

It was one of Ron's off weekends, but we knew he would still attend Ginny's game. Now, I'm not so sure.

"Don't fucking patronize me, Harry," he growled, before taking one last look at me and turning to head out the door.

Harry stood there quietly. Finally, his shoulders shrugged and he turned to me. "He'll come around," he said, his quirky smile gracing his face yet again.

"Thanks," I said quietly, trying to mask my sadness and rushed back towards the kitchen. "I'm going to make some tea, do you want any?"

Harry followed me slowly, and I caught glances of his mouth opening and closing when I moved to the cupboard to grab some mugs. Like he was trying to figure out what to say, to tiptoe around my fragility at the moment.

"What, Harry," I snapped, irked by his apprehension.

"Well, I just – um, what Ron said earlier...I mean, was he right? About Malfoy?" He stammered, hands shoved into his pockets like a schoolboy about to be punished for his misdoings.

I stopped midway from setting the teapot on the stove, and swung around fiercely. My mouth opened to throw a fiery remark about how Malfoy is a disgusting creature and I wouldn't touch him even if he were the last man on earth. But I shut it immediately, not wanting to dig myself any deeper in my lies.

My stance softened, and so did Harry's after he had prepared himself for one of my verbal rampages, and reluctantly, I realized that if I could trust anyone, it would be Harry. He owed me his life several times over (I mean, really, that boy would have been dead the second he walked into Hogwarts if it weren't for me), and he didn't have the temper that Ron did. He would just be confused for a very, very long time.

Which is completely understandable, because I myself am befuddled by this predicament I've gotten in.

"Practically," I quavered, and my eyes found his instantly as he figured out my implication.

"And by that you mean..." he trailed off, running a hand through his constantly disheveled hair.

I inhaled deeply. Here goes nothing.

"Lucius Malfoy," I stated, my hands gripping each other in embarrassment.

Harry sat down at the table (more like fell into a chair that just happened to be at the table), and I followed suit, empty mugs still in my hand.

"Harry, I don't want you to think any less of me," I began, but no words followed. I tried to make eye contact with him, but he wouldn't look at me.

"Did he hurt you?" He demanded, his voice strained.

I shouldn't have been taken aback by his question, but I was. "No, of course not! It was all," I paused, searching for a decent word to describe what we had, "mutual, I guess."

"You guess?"

"You're being difficult," I huffed, crossing my arms under my chest.

"Well, you would be too if I had told you I knocked up, say, Pansy Parkinson," he said, crossing his arms in the same matter.

"Harry, just stop," I whined.

"How did this even happen? I mean, not only is his son our age, but you just happen to be the one thing he hates most. It's just a little hard for me to wrap my head around this," he said, letting out a sigh of general discontent.

"I don't know...I just, well, I guess he seduced me. But he kept coming back, and then _I _kept coming back and we just had this...thing, I guess you could call it," I explained, trying to keep it as vague as possible. And lying a bit, because honestly, Harry doesn't need to know that I was the only one who kept coming back. That just sounds needy.

Harry's eyes widened for about this fifth time that day. "Wait, this was ongoing? You and Lucius Malfoy were basically lovers, that's what you're trying to say."

I let out a nervous laugh. "Hah, no, we don't...we don't love each other. It would be worse than Ron and me. He's very aggravating."

Harry laughed, and finally, the air around us cleared. "Lucius is aggravating? Wow, I didn't realize that at all, Hermione," he jested.

I giggled in return, and looked up at him, a smile across my face for the first time that day. "Thank you, Harry," I said, reaching out to grab his hand across the table.

"Can't really be mad at you for too long, Hermione, it's just so hard," he said, a little melodramatically, enticing another laugh from me.

We carried on the conversation amiably, and we covered all topics from Teddy to his Auror training and to what I wanted the gender of the baby to be.

"Oh, I haven't really thought about it, Harry," I said, walking him over to the front door.

"Well," he began, smirking, "I've already got a godson, just hoping for a goddaughter now."

"Well," I mocked, "I just don't think these things always work in Harry Potter's favor."

He leaned in to give me a hug, and this time I didn't hesitate to press myself fully against him. I hadn't hugged him like that in a very long time.

"I don't know if you've heard," he said, opening the door and heading right out into the chilly air, "but I _am _the Chosen One."

I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh. He wasn't going to get one of those from me for another of his 'Chosen One' quips. "That doesn't mean anything, Harry, and you know it!" I called after his receding form, and he turned around to give me a last wave goodbye.

Smiling, I leaned against the door frame as I watched him disappear around the corner, Crookshanks making figure-eights between my legs. Things were starting to fall into place, finally. Now I just had to wait for Ron to come around.

I should probably give myself a few weeks for that to happen.

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><p>AN: Ah, words cannot describe how much I adore Harry and Hermione's friendship! Please, please, please review! They make my day!

Bailey


	8. 24 November 2001, Part 2

A/N: So begins my once a week updates. Finished my first week of school and I'm seriously so terrified for this semester! I have so much stuff to do for all of my classes :(

Anyways, this is definitely not my favorite chapter. I've gone through and changed so much of it already and I'm still not completely happy with it. But there was nothing much more to do, so, here you go!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

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><p>It was later that evening when Molly Weasley appeared on my doorstep, with poor Ginny in tow. I was surprised to see her here this late, as it was well past eleven. She was covered in flour, red-faced, and had a frown that could put Dolores Umbridge's to shame. I knew just exactly what she was to say. Ginny's ashamed look further reinforced that fact.<p>

"Hermione Granger, explain yourself this instant!"

I had been expecting it to be a little less harsh, but it seemed like this trip was completely spur of the moment and she may have only figured out about this only seconds ago.

"I'm so sorry, 'Mione, she asked why Ron was so moody and it just sort of-"

Molly held up one finger, and Ginny shut the hell up. She knew better. "Ginevra Weasley, keep quiet," the woman snapped.

I glanced worriedly between the two, and it was the younger who shrugged me on. "I, um, I thought you already knew, Molly," I said timidly, rolling my wand in my hand.

"Well, I had my suspicions, but never in my wildest dreams would _you _have been the first to have a child! You're so young, Hermione!" Bellowed Molly in her best distressed-mother voice.

I huffed, like I hadn't heard the same thing from my father. "Can't really change that anymore, Molly!"

She continued, and I'm fairly certain she didn't hear a word I had said. "You have such a future ahead of you! Now you've gotten pregnant by a man whom you won't disclose, which only leads me to believe you've been getting into the wrong men's beds!" And with that, she turned to her daughter, and said, point-blank, "And you better take note of this, Ginny, because if what your brothers have been hinting at is true, this will be exactly what will happen to you in no time at all!"

Molly disapparated before she could see Ginny blanch, turning about as white as the flour that had covered her mother's apron.

"I swear I'm going to murder them in their sleep," Ginny grumbled, clenching her fists.

I plopped myself back down in my armchair, tossing the book I had been reading on to the coffee table. So much for finishing that tonight. "Care to explain?" I said, rubbing my eyes, exhausted. Actual sleep was very sparse throughout the night, getting comfortable was increasingly harder and harder to do as time wore on.

"Goodness, Hermione, I'm really sorry about this," Ginny apologized, sitting on the surface of the coffee table directly across from me.

I waved it off, with an attempt at a smile. "It's not your fault," I said.

"Ron is being so ridiculous," she continued, "moping around the house, wouldn't tell mum what was wrong. So, obviously, she calls me over and _I _thought he had already told her considering the state she was in, so it just sort of flew out of my mouth. The bag of flour that she had summoned to herself ended up hitting her square in the chest and that just made her even more on edge, and I tried to calm her down, I really did, but she wouldn't have any of it and-"

"Ginny," I interrupted, knowing that she and I had the same habit of running our mouths when we were nervous. "It's fine. Really, I promise."

She sighed. "Sorry, I just know you only wanted me and Harry and Ron to know right now."

"Gin, if you hadn't told your mother tonight, she would've found out within weeks anyway. It's okay," I said, leaning forward to place my hands on her nervously bouncing knees.

"Hermione," she began, her voice dropping lower than usual, "I don't think you realize how awful this will be."

"Your mother will come to terms with it eventually, I'm sure," I suggested, confused.

She stood up quickly, pacing towards the fireplace. "No, not mum. If you think Ron reacted badly, what do you think the public will do? You're a war hero. If they...no, not if, _when _they find out you've been shacking up with Lucius Malfoy of all people, who, by the way, hasn't even been fully accepted back into society yet, you'll be a social pariah."

"Ginny..." I began, before she held up her finger in the same manner her mother did just minutes before.

"No, I'm not finished," she broke in, continuing her rant. "This isn't even just about you. Your child will be treated just the same. And I've heard Draco isn't even speaking to his mother after she left Lucius, so what will happen when Draco finds out about you two? Do you honestly think Lucius will give up his son and only heir for you?"

I felt my throat constrict. Only the wizarding world could make you feel like bloody Hester Prynne in the twenty-first century.

"I hate to be harsh, but you need to work things out with Lucius first. I'm just not sure he knows how bad this will be," she said, walking back to the coffee table.

Sometimes, I hate it when she's right. Not in the mood to turn into a blubbering mess in front of her, I decided to send her packing.

"Just go home, Gin. I know you're tired," I whispered, bringing my knees up to my chin.

Ginny leaned over and kissed the top of my head. "I'll come by tomorrow, all right? I think it's Harry's day to have Teddy, too, so maybe I can get them away from the Quidditch pitch and we all can go for lunch." She smiled reassuringly, before disapparating on the spot.

Lucius said he wouldn't leave me. He promised me, but what else can he do? There will absolutely be no wedding. I have no interest in being with him in the long run; we'd probably kill each other within weeks. He's positively infuriating sometimes, and I'm sure he finds me no better.

We haven't spoken to each other in over a month now. I know I have my excuse, as work has been swallowing me whole lately, but what does he have? Running a household that has all of two people living in it?

Lucius just can't leave me alone. I don't want to do this alone, I don't think I could. I should have been thinking of this more often, but every time I do, I feel the tears building up and I push it to the back of my mind.

But this time, I decide to take matters into my own hands. Grabbing my wand, I quickly apparated to Malfoy Manor. Normally, there was a barrier that left me unable to land inside his home, but this time, it was gone completely. I landed in the foyer, a little uneasily, and quelled the nausea that was already building.

It was dark, all the lights were out, so I muttered a quick _lumos_, and let my wand light my way up the staircase. "Stupid girl," I heard a portrait call out as I brought my wand too close to it, "we're trying to sleep!" I merely clucked at it in response.

His bedroom was directly across from his study, and surprisingly, I found his door to be wide open. I extinguished the light emitting from my wand, and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. He was on his stomach, his arms encircling the pillow his head was lying upon. I had always expected him to sleep in a more proper manner, like on his back or something, but seeing him sprawled across his bed like this made him seem more human. More approachable.

I slowly slid under the covers, and as soon as I pulled the covers up to my chin, he shifted, moving to his side. He sighed deeply, and licked his lips. I watched him sleep for a few minutes, before I brought my hand up to his jawline to trace around it. Hopefully that would rouse him. What I usually had done before to wake him up was unfit for this situation.

His face was slightly prickly, like he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. I smiled; he usually wasn't so careless about his appearance. Finally, he inhaled, and his eyes blinked heavily, adjusting to his new surroundings.

"Hello," he murmured sleepily. "Care to explain why you've suddenly appeared in my bed?"

I smirked. "Sorry for waking you, I, er...I had a bad night."

"Mm," he said, adjusting his pillow.

"I told Harry and Ron today."

The hard lines appeared on his face again. He was so lovely while he was sleeping, and I was surprised I hadn't noticed before.

"Ron stormed out before I could tell him about you, but I'm sort of happy about that, considering how he reacted to me just being pregnant," I started, watching as his hand made its way towards my hair, his fingers beginning to twirl between the strands.

"And Potter?"

"I think he's fine with it. He was a bit surprised at first, but he was joking about it not ten minutes after I told him," I said, shifting myself closer to him.

I felt the muscles in his chest relax, like he had been preparing himself for the worst. Like he was letting go. "You can't leave me," I said, a little involuntarily.

His hand stopped in my hair, and brought it down across my jawline. "Hermione, I don't know how else to quell this fear of yours."

I removed his hand from my face, and rolled onto my back. "I'm sorry," I said, "but I just got so scared tonight, you haven't spoken to me in so long."

He rolled onto his back, following suit. We can't even face each other now, that's how comfortable this relationship is. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. But I don't think you've realized that you could be the one to pack up and leave. You can go anywhere, you can deny any right that I may have to see my child. You haven't realized that I must stay here, this is my home."

There was a pang in my heart when he told me this. "I would never..."

"I know. Hermione, I know," he said into the darkness above him.

It was quiet for a very long time. I had figured he had fallen asleep, so when I turned on my side to do the same, I felt his hand cup my chin and bring it up towards him. His lips landed on mine, and I felt gooseflesh rising on my skin. It was nothing like I was used to, no bruising lips, no teeth scraping against each other. It was gentle, and his lips parted mine and I swear I was about to melt.

Just as I was expecting it to deepen, he pulled away and I nearly protested. "I am not going to leave you," he assured me, pulling me against his chest.

I felt my heart flutter a little bit, and I pressed my lips against the skin where his heart beat just underneath. I don't think words could had even formed at that moment.

He fell asleep within minutes, and his slow, rhythmic breaths lulled me into my own.

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><p>AN: I apologize for the cutesy, but I think it was needed amongst all the angst as of late. As usual, please please please review! AND GO VOTE IN MY POLL! It's for the gender of the baby, so you'll have a while to vote, but I like to plan early so get voting, people!

Bailey


	9. 25 November 2001

A/N: Okay, first off: I'M SO ! For some strange reason, this chapter was just not ending up in the right place and I just got way unmotivated. Plus, school sucks so bad right now. So now I'm going to stop with my excuses and you can start the chapter! Oh, and I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. There was supposed to be a second scene and then I just decided you guys would want this now as opposed to later haha.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. I bow down to Jo in all her glory.

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><p>I awoke with a jolt. A rattling noise was coming from the foot of the bed, like someone was setting teacups onto their saucers. Light filled the room from the windows with the curtains thrown wide open. It faced east, and the sun was well up over the horizon. My cheek wasn't on a pillow like it should have been. It was resting on the gently rising and falling chest of Lucius Malfoy, and my arm was draped across his abdomen.<p>

Realization suddenly hit me. I had slept through the night at Malfoy Manor. I woke up cuddled next to Lucius. And from his shallow breaths, I could tell he was awake. He didn't move me away from him when he woke up.

If we weren't a couple, if we weren't even friends, what in the _hell _was this?

I sat up quickly, any notion of morning bleariness gone. A house elf stood a few feet away, and like I had figured, it was pouring tea.

"Good morning," I heard Lucius say, but before I could say anything in return, a wave of nausea overcame me and I practically jumped out of bed to hurtle towards what I hoped was the bathroom. Morning sickness was generally constant for me for the first few weeks, but lately, it had been reduced to whenever I sat up or turned too quickly. And somehow, I could never remember that.

As I expelled whatever was left in my stomach (which was mostly just bile), the conversation between Lucius and his house elf, muffled from behind the door, piqued my interest.

"Is the lady alright, sir?" The house elf said in a high, squeaky voice, not so dissimilar from Dobby's.

He shifted in bed, probably to stand up to put his robe on. "Don't worry yourself, Dippy, she'll be fine," he said, a little annoyed.

"But sir, Dippy could prepare some broth for the lady-"

"Just go," he practically growled, and I heard the elf scamper away.

The door creaked loudly as I pushed it open, and I found him standing at the middle window, gazing out over his grounds, teacup in hand.

"You don't have to be rude to her for my expense, you know," I said from the doorway, leaning against it.

He took a drink, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "The less she knows the better. Draco still lives in this house, he still has use of her," he pointed out.

"Is she the only one you have?" I asked, just out of curiosity.

"Right now, yes. We used to have three. Her mother died just last year and, well, you know what happened to Dobby."

Yes, I did know. I remembered that some of his last few moments of his life were spent in the ballroom just below us. I remembered how he nearly hexed twelve-year-old Harry when he made him inadvertently free Dobby. Those were memories and stories that were ages ago, and now only lived as fragments in my mind.

"How is Draco?" I asked, changing the subject. The ill feeling had left me, and I moved from the door frame towards the tea tray and began to pour myself a cup.

He sighed. "Fine," he said simply, obviously aware that our conversation this morning would be clearly lacking.

"And Astoria? Has she said anything to you?" I asked as I joined him at the window, my shoulder grazing against his arm, gazing out onto the south garden of his grounds.

He shook his head. "She's barely said one word to me. I'm afraid she's always been intimidated by me, and now she just squeaks out her answer to any question I may ask."

I chuckled once, a smile gracing my face for the first time that morning. "Poor girl," I commented, leaning my head against him.

Setting his tea on the windowsill, he turned to me and enveloped me in his arms. Instantly, I stiffened, still not used to his new found tenderness. "Is this how it's going to be from now on? You and your, um, niceness," I asked, my cheek pressed against his bare chest.

"It's still too early in the morning for me to be anything but," he said.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. "Lucius. It's ten-thirty in the morning. I don't think that qualifies as early," I chided, turning my head up to look at him.

"Well, we're not all morning people like you, Hermione." A smug smile was on his lips, and my hand reached up to lightly slap his cheek. And then it stayed there. My fingers did just as they did the night before, traced across his prominent, masculine jawline, tickled by the stubble that had probably been there for a couple of days. When I reached his lips, his mouth opened slightly to whisper my name. How desperately I wanted them to caress mine like they did just last night.

"What exactly are you doing?" He asked me, before pulling my hand down with his own.

I stepped back, shaking myself from the reverie. I awkwardly cleared my throat, my wrist burning from his grip around it. "Sometimes...sometimes I start to think you're a normal person. That this, erm, being together thing, would be okay. But none of this would ever be normal," I said, keeping absolutely no eye contact with him.

"Do you honestly believe that?" He questioned, his grip tightening, leaving it to burn ferociously.

I pried his fingers away, finally, and paced to the other side of the bed. Far away. "We come from two completely different worlds, and by completely I mean about as far apart as you can get. I might as well have been from some remote African tribe and it wouldn't have been any different."

"Hermione-"

I held my hand up to stop him from saying anything. "No, I understand that this is all my fault. This was all supposed to be a one-time deal, and _I _was the one who came back. I get it."

There was nothing I had really regretted in my life until that night. Ron and I had gotten into a fight that had escalated to about the worst it's ever been, and honestly neither of us can now remember what we were fighting about. I ran out of the house and the first place I thought to apparate to was Malfoy Manor. Lucius was surprised to see me at his door, and that quickly dissipated once my hands were at his trousers.

Not my proudest moment.

We would 'visit' each other every time we had a particularly bad day, and then it grew to if we had a good day, and by the end it was just any day, really. Until I decided it was getting ridiculously out of hand.

Before I could continue, he crossed over to his armoire to begin dressing. I watched him, completely mesmerized, because seriously, watching the muscles in his shoulders shift as he shrugged his shirt on would probably be the highlight of my day. It's that good.

"I could have said no to you," he pointed out as he buttoned up his crisp, white shirt.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Not one month beforehand he was shoving me up against my dresser, coaxing information out of me to make me feel like I had done all of this, all of this to him. So he's now letting the blame fall onto himself? What was this?

"You said you only wanted me once, that this was all _me_. You can't just start throwing out chivalry whenever you feel like it, Lucius. Don't try to make me feel better about this," I said, words scathing.

He turned his head to look at me quite pointedly. Steely gray eyes and all. "I did just want you once, dear. Truth be told, you proved to be quite the voracious and insatiable lover that I was pleased when you came crawling back."

Jesus Christ, those words _did not_ just come out of his mouth.

I probably looked ridiculous, my mouth hung open in complete surprise and my fists clenching at my sides, itching to smack him square in the nose. I decided to let that thought fall to the back of my mind as I paced determinedly towards him. "You," I began, shoving a finger into his chest, "are the most detestable man I have ever had the _pleasure_ of coming across!"

Turning on my heel, I practically marched out of that place, grabbing my wand from the side table as I walked past, and was positive I would never have to be in his presence again. What on earth could have possessed him to say such a thing to my face? I cursed at myself when I realized that I had been crying, and I had no idea for how long, as I crunched along the gravel that lined the path to the gates.

But, as I wiped my tears off my cheeks, another pair of eyes watched me disappear from view through a front window. I'm glad I didn't notice, because another panic attack would not have been conducive to anything remotely good at that moment. But it did fuck things up royally.

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><p>AN: Haha, I'm pretty sure all of you want to kill me right now. But I PROMISE things will work out! Can't have Lucius being all nice and fluffy all of the time :)

I would totally beg for reviews, but since you guys waited for so long for this chapter, I will just ask politely! So please, spare some time and review, it would make my day!

Bailey


	10. 7 December 2001

A/N: Well...I'm back! Sorry for the like, four month hiatus. Things got crazy busy. Having two jobs is no bueno. I'd also like to point out that I stayed up until six in the morning to finish this. I'm so exhausted. Hopefully I caught all of my spelling/grammatical errors, because I noticed I was making a ton of them due to said exhaustion.

ANYWAYS. Enjoy reading, and I'm so excited to be back. :)

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><p>It was really, very white. The walls were white, the linoleum floors were white, and even the hard, plastic, and extremely comfortable chairs were white. That much white makes me uneasy, as does the general smell of hospitals, and at that moment I was an anxious mess. I still associated hospitals with the blood and death after the battle at St. Mungo's, and even though the reason I was here was the complete opposite of death, the person sitting next to me had to put his hand over my clasped, shaking ones in an attempt to calm me.<p>

"Hermione. It's just an appointment," Harry said under his breath, stretching his legs out as he smiled reassuringly to the couple sitting across from us. They looked like they thought I was about to get a death sentence. I couldn't blame them.

I sighed, and looked pointedly at him. "I know! These places just unnerve me now, and I don't understand how you're all right as rain, especially after you-know-what," I whispered, shoving his hand back onto his lap. Harry had gotten a bad case of post-traumatic stress disorder a few months after the battle, and he had spent a good month and a half in the same ward as Gilderoy Lockhart. The healers there thought it had been aftershocks from the power of the duel he had with Lord Voldemort, but I knew that wasn't the case. I sneaked him off to psychiatrists as much as possible to get a decent diagnosis, and it seemed so obvious when it was revealed to us what he had. But, Harry made me vow to him to never speak of those few months to anyone. I told him he shouldn't be ashamed, that so many people go through it, but he wouldn't have any of it. It disappoints me a little, because I know he harbors a lot of that anguish today.

"This isn't the same," he huffed, leaning back into his seat, and I followed suit. Crossing my arms below my breast, I shifted forward, trying to get the soreness of my constantly stretching abdominal muscles to dissipate. Which, just like my exhaustion and constant hunger despite having no appetite, never, ever went away.

I miss sleeping all through the night more than anything.

"Miss Granger?" The nurse, called out from the open doorway, and I slapped Harry's thigh with the back of my hand as I stood up, indicating that he should follow me.

Other than an awkward mishap involving the doctor believing Harry was the father, the appointment went perfectly. In the car on the way to my parents' house for lunch, I kept flicking through the photos from the scan, my fingers tracing over the blurry outline of my child. Dainty little nose, high forehead, pronounced chin...I knew this one would be a spitting image of Lucius. And that made me hurt a little more.

"Shame we couldn't have found out the gender," Harry said, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on his thigh. "It was being a bit shy."

"I know", I said, smiling, "I don't think I would have wanted to know, though."

Harry scoffed. "Why not? Much easier to, you know, plan things."

Much easier to envision my life with a miniature Lucius, or a miniature of myself. Both of which I couldn't handle. I realized that this was quite the opposite of what I would have done if this had been in a better point in my life. I love planning more than anything. I was just heartbroken when those homework planners I had gotten for Harry and Ron during our school years weren't used to their fullest extent.

Considering how completely unplanned this situation was, I figured it was best to just leave it at that.

"You still want to drop by your mum's?" He asked, before changing lanes, speeding past the car that was in front of us, and switching gears. All the while in the middle of a swearing marathon.

"Yes, if you don't mind killing us before then," I said, with a sweet smile on my face.

Harry let out a sarcastic laugh. "Very funny," he commented.

"By the way, when was the last time you shaved?" I asked, reaching over to rub my hand against his possibly three-day stubble.

"Luna likes it," he said, smiling.

A smirk grew on my face. "Oh, I see."

"God, Hermione, don't," he chuckled.

"I just never took Luna for the scruffy type," I said, leaning against the door.

Harry took a left turn down the street I grew up on. "Yeah, well, she's nice." An uncomfortable look was gracing his face.

"Harry. We don't have to skirt around the fact that she's a crazy little minx in bed-"

"Hermione!" He yelled in a moment of sheer panic.

I bit my tongue in between my front teeth, holding back laughter from Harry's obvious discomfort. He exhaled loudly through his nose, something he always did when he was nervous, and he pulled up in front of my childhood home.

"Harry. It's just my parents," I said.

He opened his door and got out without saying anything, and went round to open my door. "I know _that_, I'm just nervous they're going to ask me something, er, bad," he said as he extended his hand, helping me out. I had stuffed the pictures into the front pocket of my bag, which was slung over my shoulder. Our feet crunched in the untouched snow, and I saw my mother pull back the lacy curtains in the front room. She waved enthusiastically.

"Like what? 'Oh, just wondering if my dear Hermione has been shagging one of Voldemort's followers.'"

"When did you become so nonchalant about this?" He fretted.

I gave him a small, closed-lipped smile before my mother whipped the front door open. "Goodness, Harry, it's been so long since we've seen you," my mother trilled before enveloping him in a hug. My parents hadn't seen him since before the war. He works more than I do, and I've been nothing more than proud. It was a miracle he was able to take this afternoon off, and for that, I was grateful.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he chuckled, and I followed him in.

I shrugged my coat off and laid it over the back of my dad's armchair, and watched as my mother pulled Harry's off and lay it on top of my own. It smelled of cinnamon and warmth and home, and at that moment I was so thankful that their memory charms had worn off soon after the war. I don't think I had cried out of pure joy that much before. When I had put the charm on them, I hadn't intended to live past that Christmas, but here I was. Here they were.

"Darling, look how big you're getting!" My mother exclaimed, rubbing her hand across my belly.

I smiled. "Oh, I have these for you," I said, quickly sliding my hand in the pocket of my bag, grabbing all but one picture.

My mother practically squealed. As she awed and cooed over the pictures over what would hopefully be her only grandchild, Harry helped me fix up the tea tray. And by that I mean he just pulled some biscuits out of its container and placed them on a plate.

"Where's dad?" I asked, interrupting my mother's impending tears.

"Oh, um, he had to swing by the office. A little girl got too close to her father while he was playing cricket, and you can guess what happened," she responded, waving her hand around in mid-air.

Harry looked immensely relieved. "It's just my dad," I whispered as I poured the tea into three dainty, flowery cups.

"I don't do well with dads," he replied simply. It was probably for the best that mine wasn't here, Harry did have a tendency of saying everything that came to his head when he was in an uncomfortable situation. My parents still had no idea the father was a forty-something ex-Death Eater whose son went to school with me. I love Harry dearly, but if he had let any of that slip just yet I would have murdered him in his sleep.

As I set down everything onto the table, I saw that mischievous glint in my mother's eye. I knew she was about to say something to make us squirm in our seats.

"So, you two have been spending a lot of time together," she pointed out, picking a chocolate biscuit up from the tray Harry had fixed up.

"Oh, er, I have a girlfriend, Mrs. Granger," Harry replied before I could get there.

My mother waved it off. As usual. "Oh, I know. It's just it seems that the father doesn't want much to do with you or the baby, I thought maybe-"

"Mother!" I interjected, my eyebrows raised in complete astonishment. Harry and I made eye contact, very strained eye contact.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I just think it's a little bit strange he hasn't showed his face yet," she said, a little nonchalantly.

Harry grabbed my hand underneath the table. It calmed me instantly. "Mum," I sighed, "a very select few actually know of my pregnancy, and only two people know who the father really is. Neither of us can afford the attention it will bring to us."

"Bad attention," Harry added, and I pushed back the instinct to dig my nails into his palm.

My mother cleared her throat, set down her tea, and began to stand. "It's not you. I want you to know, I want you to meet him, but right now...it's just not the right time. We're not in the right place. Figuratively."

The rest of the two hours we spent there was quite strained. Harry kept the conversation going quite well, explaining in detail what exactly Aurors do, and some of his best tales from his tour of Easter Europe hunting down any remaining Death Eaters. He was gone for nearly half a year.

Finally, we left, and I had given my mother a hug that lasted quite a bit longer than any of the normal ones. I felt so guilty and she was so stone-faced about it. I didn't know what would happen over Christmas, as I figured it would probably be the next time I saw her.

Harry drove us back to Grimmauld Place where he had been living since moving out on his own, and I said a quick hullo to Luna before using his floo to get back to my own apartment. I was exhausted, and I figured I might as well attempt an afternoon nap. When I arrived, Crooks immediately began rubbing against my legs, his ginger fur getting absolutely everywhere.

"Crooks," I clucked, and shuffled back to my bedroom with just enough time to pull my jeans off and crawl under the duvet. Sleep came to me quickly.

–

I awoke suddenly, a rather irritating fluttering going non-stop in my abdomen. I groaned, and turned over onto my right side, hoping that would be a more comfortable position for him. Her. Whatever it was.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly, and finally, I noticed a small scrap of parchment atop the pillow next to me. I was panicking slightly, and hastily reached over to my nightstand to grab my wand, muttering 'lumos.'

The scrawl on the parchment was definitely feminine. Deep blue ink, heavy loops on the L's and Y's. I had never seen this handwriting before in my life.

_Tom at the Leaky Cauldron has a portkey for you to use. It goes off at half-past six. Please use it, I have valuable information regarding you and Lucius._

_ -G_

I read the note countless times. G? It certainly wasn't Ginny, she never wrote in cursive. Finally I managed to roll over to check the time, and it was nineteen past six. Shit.

I scurried through the apartment, hurriedly pulling my jeans on and grabbing my coat and bag. Banging my knee against the books that were precariously hanging off the edge of my coffee table, I turned around to attempt to catch them, but I realized I was wasting time. Those books could sit on the floor for a few hours. It's not that bothersome. I practically sprinted down the street I lived on, turned the corner, and ran down the main corridor of Diagon Alley. I dismissed everyone's strange looks. Normally I would be so cautious about this, but this woman seemed genuine, in a helpful way. I hoped so badly she would have something good to say.

The bar was quite full today, nearly each seat was full. I made eye contact with Tom, and he beckoned me over.

"Should I be worried?" I asked as he handed me a key with the number 15 pressed into the brass.

He shook his head. "Not at all, Miss Hermione. Fifteen is up on the first floor, right next to the staircase. There's a newspaper up there that might strike your fancy," he added, eyebrows wagging.

I smiled and deposited a few sickles onto the wooden bar top and dashed up the stairs before he could refuse.

There was a newspaper folded on top of the moth-worn quilt that lay over the bed. The date on it was the sixth of December. Yesterday. She had clearly planned this out quite in advance. I sighed loudly before I reached out and barely grazed the paper with my forefinger, and it sucked me in instantly. I was being pulled, pressed, yanked in every which way, and finally, I landed quite softly into a few inches of snow.

Great. All I needed now was to be soaking wet and freezing.

I stood up and wiped the excess white powder off my legs and looked around. I was in a maze of hedges. Which were miraculously still green. Definitely the product of magic.

"Hermione?" I heard a voice call out. It was soft, feminine, but very determined. It was only slightly familiar to me and there was a tight tug of panic in my chest.

I sucked in a breath. "Yes?" I called out, my voice shaking.

My surroundings were pretty dense. I had no idea where I was or how to get out of these hedges. How lovely.

"Just keep talking to me, I'm getting close," the woman yelled, and I could hear her feet crunching through the snow.

I hadn't put proper shoes on when I left, and I could feel the cold wetness seeping into the fabric. "Is there any particular reason you deposited me in six inches of snow?" I retorted, bouncing my heels.

I heard her laugh momentarily. "I apologize for that. I've never actually made a portkey before, so I figured some of the logistics would be a little off," she said, and finally I saw the little light emitting from her wand.

Her figure appeared before me as she rounded the corner, and her face was slightly blinded by the light of her wand. "Didn't do so bad, though. At least you actually landed on the grounds!" She jested, and my heart nearly dropped to my feet when she lowered her wand.

"Astoria!" I exclaimed, walking towards her.

She sheepishly wrung her hands in front of her. "Sorry I couldn't actually tell you who I was, but it was for obvious reasons," she said before she began making her trek back. I followed her close behind. The Manor made its appearance soon after, its lit spires growing closer and closer.

I was having trouble keeping up with her long strides and had to practically hop through the snow. "Oh," I said, breathless, "what obvious reasons?"

"You never would have come if I revealed to you who I was," she said plainly. Right. Of course I wouldn't have.

Snow began to fall once more. It was freezing outside. Baby was fluttering around again. I was about to come face to face with Lucius. Just a terrible night in general.

We finally reached a back entrance to the Manor, and I watched as Astoria kicked her boots off in such an ungraceful manner. It was rather fascinating. Here she was, the face of classic beauty, leaving her boots unceremoniously on the back porch, cold sweat on her brow, hair pulled back into a ponytail that was clearly on its last leg.

The entrance was into the kitchens. Astoria flicked her wand lazily towards me, and the warm wafting of air instantly dried me.

"Mr. Malfoy is up in his office, I believe. He knows you're coming," she said, walking me to the main entrance of the house since I had never ventured into the kitchens.

As I paused at the foot of the staircase, she put her hand on my arm. "I'll be up in half an hour," she said.

I furrowed my brows. "What for?"

"I had a plan," she smiled mischievously. I didn't enjoy it.

It was like déjà vu. My gut twisted around as I ascended the stairs and glanced towards his office. His door was wide open, and light was pouring from the opening. My feet padded lightly over the rug that ran through the whole hallway, and when I reached the doorway, my hand clutched at the wooden frame in an attempt to steady myself.

"Miss Granger, I can see your fingers," his voice drawled out, and I snapped my hand back immediately. Fuck. He already had control of this conversation.

I hesitantly stepped through the passageway, and I could feel his eyes sweeping their way over me. It felt like the pierced my flesh. I hated it.

He was seated at his desk, just like the last time, and didn't even bother to greet me. Just like last time.

"I believe we have some things to discuss," he said, certain. I had no idea what these things were, but maybe it could help us get better at being together. Not being together in that sense, but doing things together. Parenting things, not sexual things. Sexual things are done. Gone. Finished.

"Yes," I said, my voice hitching in my throat. "I think we do."

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><p>AN: Sorry to cut off there, I figured you guys would want something sooner as opposed to later. If there's any Downton Abbey fans out there, I totally imagined Astoria to look like Lady Sybil for some reason. And also, please go vote in my poll on my profile. It's actually pretty close so it would help immensely if I had more people vote.

Thanks for reading! And please review if you have the time and means to do so :)

Bailey


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